


The Zeppo

by adjovi



Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-29
Updated: 2018-07-29
Packaged: 2019-06-18 09:51:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15483105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adjovi/pseuds/adjovi
Summary: The 39th loop, the one before Jane got it right.





	The Zeppo

Margo stretched out across the couch, admiring her tanned legs, crossing one ankle over the other. She hugged her coffee mug, holding it to her face and just feeling the warmth from it for a moment before sipping. She was, surprisingly, thoroughly languid and utterly fucked, which meant…James? Jake? Jason? _whomever_ maybe would be awarded another shot to get it. Maybe. She turned as she heard someone on the stairs, completely shocked that it was Quentin of all people slinking down all walk of shame-y. When he saw her, he froze completely, eyes wide, like what was the word? _Tharn_? Yeah. “We…ll.”

“Um.” Was all he could manage, and what in the actual fuck was he wearing? A flannel over a faded t-shirt? He wore _that_ to _their_ party? She and El would need to stage a friendtervention if he were to stay in the inner circle. He cleared his throat, looking away, then back at her, swallowing thickly. “Hey.”

“Hey yourself, stud.” She smirked at him, re-crossing her legs, satin sleep shorts riding up just _so_. Watching him, watching her. She took another sip, deliberately licking the rim of the mug, slowly looking up at him. “So, what’s her name?”

He wobbled, almost tripping on the step, holding onto the bannister for dear life. He was fucking delicious, all flushing and awkward. She could just about eat him alive. “Uh. I gotta…” He pointed at the door, other hand on the back of his neck, trying to hide the blush. “Library.” It was all he could manage, the poor lamb, stumbling almost blindly the rest of the way down the stairs and out the door, letting it shut with a slam behind him.

She chuckled into her mug. _My work here’s done_. Not more than ten minutes later, Eliot came down, shooting her an obscene grin, lifting her feet and letting them drop into his lap as he slid in beside her. He pulled out a pack of cigarettes, tapping one out and dragging over an empty beer can as an ashtray, one of many littering the floor and tables, sticky remnants of the festivities from the night before. He lit up, looking over at her, blowing out a long plume that curled up and away. “El…you’ll never guess who just skittered out of here…”

“Bambi, be nice.” He took another drag, glancing at her like he meant anything but.

She tilted her head, licking her lips. “Our favorite nerdy little puppy.” He shifted a bit under her, leaning his head back against the sofa, sliding long legs a bit further out. “Didn’t know Q had it in him.”

He didn’t say anything for a moment, which made her start to wonder, and when he answered, his voice was filthy dirty. “Neither did I.” He was smiling in a way she hadn’t seen on him in a long time, eyeing the ceiling.

Her mouth fell open. “You?” Holy fucking shit. She _really_ didn’t think Quentin had _that_ in him. He held up two fingers to her and mouthed _twice_ , letting his head fall back again with a thump. She smacked his arm. “How did that happen?”

His eyes were wide with fucking _wonder_. Shit. He sighed. “Honestly…” he said, dreamily, mask slipping for the first time in… _ever_. She narrowed her eyes at him, but he quickly recovered, not even noticing, trademarked smirk firmly back in place. “I mean, you _have_ met me.”

She tried laughing it off, but wanted it to hurt a little. “So, what, you slipped and your dick ended up in his ass?”

He rolled his eyes at her, sitting up fully. “Full court press charm offensive.” He shrugged. “Plus copious amounts of social lubricants.” He looked knowingly at her, raising a practiced eyebrow. “Yielded the predictable results.”

She wasn’t convinced. This _meant_ something to him, she could tell. _Nothing_ meant _anything_ to him. He had been crushing hard on that geek since the moment he saw him, marking him as his target early and often. She actually couldn’t tell what Q had thought of that, he just seemed equally mortified pretty much anytime any _one_ aimed their attentions towards him. If she had been a betting woman, she would have put good money on Alice Quinn. That would have been delightfully awkward to observe and satisfying to tease. This? What was she supposed to do with _this_? It was absurd, she knew. But she hated not being in the know, even the tiniest bit, most especially when it came to Eliot, with whom she covetously and with great intent been entwined. “So, will there be a repeat performance?”

He hmmed at her, speculatively, breezily. “If he’s lucky.” Yeah, right. _Lying liar who lies_. This was bad news bears—they weren’t actually supposed to _like_ them. He shrugged again, turning to face her. “And, how did your evening go?”

She swung her legs off of him onto the floor, crossing one over the other and shrugged. “Some guy with a ‘J’ name unexpectedly fucked my brains out.” She really should let this go, but she couldn’t. Had to keep picking the scab. She slid her eyes over towards him. “You hooked up with Q. Which of these is the bigger deal?” Why did she feel this in the pit of her stomach, like she was losing a dangerous game she hadn’t even realized she had been playing? She fucking hated losing.

“Bambi,” he said soothingly, running a hand through her hair, settling on her neck. Of course he was reading her, had always been able to read her. But for someone who had carefully crafted and exacted his image in such painstaking detail, he was astonishingly in complete disavowal of his own internal self. Project and shift, lather, rinse, repeat. “It’s just _sex_.” He leaned over, lightly kissing her on the temple.

“Uh huh”. As she well knew, the waters of denial sure were warm and inviting. She drained her mug, then stood and stretched, deliberately making a show of her toned belly, absolutely for Eliot’s benefit. This needed some cocktails and further contemplation. “So, brunch?”

“Let’s get sloppy,” he agreed. He stubbed his cigarette out, cutting off the cherry with the lip of the can and letting the filter drop inside.

***

Brunch had certainly been satisfyingly boozy. She and Eliot were stumbling a bit across campus, but even through the haze, she still felt worry twist in her chest. Anytime the conversation had veered anywhere close towards the subject of one Quentin Coldwater, Eliot had deftly navigated elsewhere. A novice would not have even noticed, his skill was so adept, but she was no mere guppy. Her paramour, _Jason_ , had been Eliot’s first year roomie, as it turned out. She and Eliot had been so sucked into each other’s orbit for so long she hadn’t even recognized him. She was strangely disappointed to find out that Jason wasn’t Eliot’s type. Since when did Eliot even _have_ a type? She felt his elbow tighten imperceptibly around hers, noticing said high-strung super nerd a second after he did. Quentin was animatedly arguing with a book-laden Alice about something, gesticulating broadly, papers flying out of his hands and drifting down to the ground. Eliot shifted their direction towards them. _Here we go_.

“Well, hello there, kids!” Eliot sounded practically giddy. Quentin was scowling on his knees, hurriedly shoveling papers back into his arms, but he looked up at the sound of Eliot’s voice, features smoothing into a small smile for just a moment. Eliot gave him an almost imperceptible wink, but she was a hawk, watching.

“What'd you want?” Alice’s voice was practically the textbook definition of tetchy. Margo thought for the first time that they could possibly be friends.

Quentin stood awkwardly next to Alice, still trying to bundle the papers in his arms, and Eliot dropped her arm, walking over and clapping a hand around his neck as he had done dozens of times. But, she knew with absolute surety that the move had never been imbued with such meaning before. Q let his eyes slip over towards Eliot’s for just a second, relaxing, and she could see the relief register on Eliot’s carefully neutral face. Well, fuck. “Uh, hi.” God. He really was such a hopeless dork.

“What’cha doing?” Eliot sing-songed, running a thumb along Quentin’s neck. Margo just rolled her eyes, already bored.

“Uh, research.” Quentin seemed a little…cagey. Hold up. Maybe this could get interesting.

“What an exquisitely sad waste of a perfectly beautiful day.” Eliot was positively beaming. Jesus _Christ_. “Aren’t you glad we’re here to rescue you?”

“Q’s helping me.” Alice was on the defensive, and Eliot grinned at her, delighted, flashing all of his teeth, clearly smelling chum in the water. Oh Alice, you in danger, girl.

Eliot let go of Quentin, walking over towards Alice, plucking a book from her pile as she tried to twist away. His jovial expression dissipated almost immediately when he caught the title. “Holy shit. _Summoning_?” He looked down at her. “Alice. Seriously. You shouldn’t be fucking with this.”

“Fuck off, Eliot!” She turned back towards him, nastily swiping the book back. Margo spied several of the titles, they were all roughly on the same topic. “You don’t understand!” She stomped off then, leaving Q awkwardly standing in the wake of her anger.

“Quentin.” Eliot’s voice was soft and full of worry. “You can’t seriously…”

“It’s her brother, El.” He sighed, closing his eyes briefly, shifting the papers again. “She wants to try and contact him.”

Eliot’s eyes were huge. “Jesus. I didn’t know.” He swallowed roughly, his Adam’s apple visibly bobbing. He kept his voice gentle, reaching out and laying a hand on Quentin’s shoulder. “But, Q. Do you understand?” He shook his shoulder a bit, squeezing just the once. “Summoning is not to be messed with. You could end up dead. Or worse.” He shuddered.

“I know that, Eliot. I tried telling her.” She was surprised at the lack of annoyance at Eliot’s frankly intrusive concern, which would have pissed her right the fuck off. Instead, Quentin just sounded resignedly defeated.

Of course, Margo knew that Alice’s brother had died mysteriously a few years back, but she didn’t know any of the details, just that a former student, Emily Greenstreet, had been involved somehow. She actually felt bad for her, and felt a little twinge of guilt that she had been scrutinizing Quentin’s every move _vis a vis_ Eliot. Perhaps he had bigger fish to fry.

“Hey, forget that for right now.” He smiled crookedly at Q, openly scanning his face, then looking back at her, briefly assessing. “Let’s go find something fun to smoke.”

“I’ll catch up with you dickbiscuits later.” Eliot looked back at her, surprised. She really didn’t want to spend the rest of the afternoon watching him pretend _not_ to eyefuck Quentin. She needed a new hobby, and maybe Alice Quinn was just the ticket.

***

Margo found Alice in the Cottage, books and papers all around her on the dining room table. She looked up from her research, hair falling into her face, full-on glaring at Margo. “What?” Christ, if she had tits like Alice, she wouldn’t be hiding them under that shapeless _frock_ , but they could play dress up later.

“Retract the claws, Wolverine. I come in peace.” She held her hands up defensively, shrugging one shoulder and leaning against the table, quickly scanning over the titles she could catch. There really was some insane shit here, she thought, enchanted. _Major Arcana_? Most excellent.

“Why can’t you just leave me alone!” Alice started hastily gathering all of the papers and books together, clearly trying to move to a safer location.

“Alice, I actually want to help you.” She picked up a book nearest her, twisting it around so she could better see it, frowning at the symbol she found there.

“Why would _you_ want to help _me_?” Alice snatched the book back from her, eyes flashing. “Don’t you have like party planning to do with Eliot or something?”

“Eh, he’s boring right now.” She shrugged, feeling Alice’s interest growing, not caring to elaborate further. Let her think they were fighting. It would just add to the mystique. “Besides, although I don’t know what happened to your brother, I know someone who does.” She knew she had reeled her in, then.

“Wait, what?” Her eyes were huge with surprise behind those Warby Parkers.

Margo walked over to the wall of alumni photos, picking one off the wall and walking back over towards Alice. “Emily Greenstreet.” She pointed her out. “Word was, she was with Charlie when he…”

“Oh.” Alice’s voice was soft, almost breaking, as she gently reached out, running her finger first over Emily and then a man with reddish hair standing next to her. Charlie, obviously. “Do you know where she is now?”

“Apparently, she dropped out after it happened. Moved to the city, gave up on magic entirely.” She regarded Alice coolly. “Up for a field trip?” She could use a change of scenery.

Meeting with Emily had been pretty fucking sad and disgustingly pathetic. A good reminder that magic was a merciless bitch. Well, at least Alice knew what had happened to Charlie. Finding out he was a niffin didn’t seem to deter her in the least, even after all of the overt warnings that they weren’t to be trifled with. Margo hadn’t felt this _excited_ about something in a long while, skirting along the edges of actual, possible danger. Wasn’t usually in her nature to want to help someone without gaining something herself, but maybe this was one of those "knowledge is its own reward" cross-stitched wisdom bullshit that she was searching for and hadn’t even known it. She felt like clapping her hands together and saying “project”, but that would be a little too much on the nose.

***

The party was at the Knowledge kids place, which…meh. Q’s bestie Julia had invited them. She didn’t really know what to make of Julia. On the surface, she seemed a bit too Hermione for her tastes, but there was something pitch black there, too, lurking just behind her eyes. Plus, she seemed to be a package deal with Q, so. The man in question was sitting next to Julia on the couch, whispering about what could only be one subject, as he was pointedly failing not to look in Eliot’s general direction. Julia playfully swatted him on the arm, so, yeah.

Eliot, for his part, was feigning apathy, telling her some ribald story about one of the poor sods he had boned six months before who was shooting him longing looks from across the room. But, she knew it was an act, his eyes kept being drawn towards Quentin like he was the center of gravity. Finally, he gave up pretending, smiling and waggling his fingers in Julia’s direction after she looked over at him for the thirteenth time. “ _Christ on a cracker_ ,” he whispered in her ear.

Quentin immediately went beet red, hand over his face. Margo laughed a little meanly. “God. He _really_ sucks at this.”

In the past, better men had been cut for lesser offensives. But, Eliot just sighed contentedly, his voice going up at the end when he agreed. “Yep.” Ugh, gross.

Well, fuck it. Time to make her own fun. “El, give me Jason’s number.”

He was still stuck in his reverie, completely distracted. “What?”

“Gimme your phone.” She held out her hand, snapping at him when he just stared dumbly down at her. This is your brain on Quentin. “Your. Phone.”

He snapped out of it then, pulling out his phone and fixing her with a discerning grin. “Normally, I’d warn you that he’s a royal prick of epic proportions, but that’s just ‘game on’ for you.”

She just nodded in agreement, pulling up a text window. “Players gotta play.”

The night had progressed along nicely, alcohol plying willing participants into the point of zero fucks given. Quentin’s unmitigated asshole of a former roommate, Penny, had showed up at one point, mocking Q relentlessly for simply existing, which had been fun while it lasted. Now Penny was smushed up in between Julia and Kady, who were making eyes at him and each other, and he was blissed out like he won the fucking lottery. Jason was amusingly pretending like he was bored, but he was a total amateur, eyes flicking from her tits to her ass like they didn’t know where to land. And, Eliot had _finally_ given up the ghost and was unabashedly sucking Quentin’s face off on the couch, no one else existing. God. It was so fucking sweet her teeth ached. As a distraction from all _that_ , she shoved her tongue in Jason’s ear, nipping his earlobe and grabbing his crotch at the same time, causing him to delightfully squeak in surprise. That’ll do pig.

Just then, the door flew open, and a frantic Alice stormed through, looking around wildly. She froze, staring at Quentin and Eliot on the couch. She was still for a long beat before letting out a frustrated noise and rolling her eyes. Margo unwound herself from Jason, ignoring his annoyed groan. “What’cha up to, kitty cat?”

“I think I found something.” Alice was clutching a book, one that Margo was sure she had seen in Dean Fogg’s office. Petty larceny? She could get behind that. “But, we need more people. I can’t do it on my own.”

Penny got up then, striding over towards her, “Just calm down. I can help you.” He just looked at Alice. “Yes. I can. Yes, I am.” Margo hoped he wasn’t peeking under the hood of her mind, who knew what he might find, but her wards were iron clad. Kady and Julia had come over as well, and now their little Scooby gang had swelled to five. Apparently the prospect of performing illicit magic was too great of a draw to pass up.

Margo gave the room one last look before following Alice out into the night, “This place is dead anyways.”

***

Well, maybe that hadn’t been the best idea ever. Turned out, instead of making contact with Charlie, they had reached out and touched some _thing_ else. Some creature with a face full of moths who apparently _ate_ live people right in front of a terrified class of first years before several of her little buddies were able to force him back from where he came from. But, not before he came at Quentin, calling him by name, knocking him around a bit.

Alice had begged her to help her try and make contact with Charlie again, but honestly there was flirting with danger and just plain stupidity. And, she was many things, but stupid wasn't one of them. The school was coming down on them, hard, but none of them were breaking. Wasn’t like she was going to admit that she had been involved. Plus, Eliot had given her an air tight spell that would keep them from seeing anything. Instead, she decided they needed to be ready. Because this moth-faced fuckstick was just biding his time and next go around, they wouldn’t be so lucky.

She had led the whole group of them to the clearing behind the Cottage so they could practice. “Ok. So. Your discipline's phosphoromancy?” She directed this at Alice, scanning a page from a book she had swiped from Sunderland’s office.

“Uh. Yeah. But I don’t see…” Alice was honest to gods wringing her hands.

“Mine’s cyromancy.” She looked at Julia and Kady. “Ok. It has to be us four.” She had realized pretty early on that the boys were basically useless. Penny was seated cross-legged on the ground, meditating, trying to keep out whatever the Beast had been tormenting him with, clearly lost in his own mind. Eliot and Quentin were attempting some spell that Q had fanboy nerded out over called “Magic Missile”, completely failing attempt after attempt even over Kady’s warnings that they would have to cast clean. She got it. The need to _do_ something to prepare. Even still, they were hopeless fucking imbeciles. And, Q’s Popper’s 43 was total shit.

Julia walked over to Margo, glancing at the page she had opened. “We can use them both together,” Julia said, excitedly, catching on more quickly than she had anticipated. “Margo and Alice can combine their spells, and, Kady, you can make them a weapon with battle magic. I can aim it…and…boom.” She mimicked a big explosion. Huh. Maybe she underestimated Julia.

“Alright, ladies. Wanna give it a go?” The other women moved around her, and she felt them all focus. She sensed that warm slotting feeling in her chest when she _knew_ she was about to cast right, and moved her fingers as shown on the page. Then at once, a giant energy surge went through all of them, and the stump of wood they had been using as their target went a bright blue, then completely froze solid as all of their spells combined as one. She walked over and kicked it, shattering it into a million pieces. “That’s more like it.”

Just then, there was a rustling noise and tree branches snapping, and suddenly, he was there. The Beast. She felt an icy cold dread in the center of her chest as she watched him making a beeline for Quentin. Eliot jumped in front of him, attempting to act as a shield, but he was immediately brought to his knees by a flick of the Beast’s wrists, blood pouring from Eliot's mouth, nose and eyes. She felt her knees buckle in grief, but somehow remained upright and instead focused on preparing the spell again.

“No! You fucking bastard!” That was the last thing Quentin said before the Beast casually slashed his hand, snapping Q's neck. He slid bonelessly to the ground, landing half on top of Eliot.

She vaguely tracked the Beast saying something to Penny before grabbing him by the hair and ripping his head clean off, pitching it away into the woods.

Her hands were definitely shaking, but they were ready, taking aim and firing their spell towards him. His face registered shock as he was knocked back a few steps, completely frozen in ice. She released a breath she hadn’t realized she had been holding. Holy shit. Maybe this fucking idea worked? But any relief was short-lived as he shook himself like a wet dog, shattering the ice that had surrounded him and it fell harmlessly away. “Nice try, girls.” He did something complicated with his hands, Margo could see there were _six_ fingers on each one, and suddenly all of the air rushed out of her lungs at once. She could tell the same had happened to the others, as they were all on the ground with her, desperately scrabbling at their throats. The last thing she saw was a strange woman come into view with a stopwatch in her hand. Then, blessed blackness.

***

“Jesus Christ.” Henry Fogg sighed heavily. “I thought we agreed no more Quentin and Eliot loops. It always ends with one of these idiots sacrificing himself for the other.”

Jane sighed in return, clearly distressed, kneeling in front of Quentin and Eliot’s bodies, running a hand softly over Quentin’s brow. “I let myself get caught up in the enchantment of it all. Always was a bit of a dreamer.” She let her gaze drift up towards Fogg, tilting her head to the side, considering.

“Yeah, well, your commitment to romanticism got them all killed. This isn’t a fairy tale.” His voice was hard. “The loops are getting shorter. The Beast is coming straight for Quentin now.” He ran a hand tiredly over his face. “We always had the best success when our boy is with Alice from the start.”

She nodded, all business. “No. You’re right, of course.” She slapped her hands on her knees and stood. “It’s just they seem to be so much more work, those two.”

“Maybe that allows them the time to focus and prepare, instead of being all starry-eyed morons.” Fogg was pacing now.

She nodded again. “But, we’ve had Quentin and Alice loops before, and they still ended up with everyone dead. We need to change something…else.” She was looking around at the rest of the bodies, her gaze settling on Julia. “I think I know what we need to do.” She paused a moment, considering. “You know, Henry, this time, the girls got very close…”

“Not close enough. Everyone _still_ ended up dying. You better hurry up, this enchantment won’t last for long.” He indicated at the portal tree which was starting to faintly glow.

“Well, I can say that in this loop, Margo in particular showed remarkable leadership. I think maybe she might be destined for greatness. Ready then?” Jane pulled out a stopwatch, clicking it the once.

**Author's Note:**

> I really wanted to try and do something from Margo's prospective, and how she would have reacted to Q and Eliot getting together early on. Plus, it is just super fun to play around in the different timeloops. Title taken from the Buffy episode where Xander saves the day and hilariously Buffy and Angel have all this schoompy romantic drama in the background, not even noticing. 
> 
> for @thewelterschallenge Theme 3: Timeloops
> 
> Thanks for any kudos or comments! :)


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